


An Introspective Moment

by second-wings (eigwayne)



Series: The Collected Works of Sunglasses-in-Space-Zala [3]
Category: Gundam SEED
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 02:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10527138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eigwayne/pseuds/second-wings
Summary: When Miriallia tells him she found the Aegis where he left it, Athrun goes with her to see one of his past follies.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on April 5, 2013 on my RP blog, as a prompt from my friend who writes Miriallia.  
> http://sunglasses-in-space-zala.tumblr.com/post/47239838926/on-my-way-for-miriallia

“I can’t believe it’s still there,” Athrun said as they walked together, he and Miriallia Haw. “Are you sure about that?”

“Of course I’m sure! Why do you keep doubting me?!” That wasn’t the first time he had said something similar, and she was a little frustrated. Like the pilot didn’t trust her.

He sighed. “It’s just… not practical. You’d think someone would have put this area on the schedule for clean-up. Or scavenged the parts, or something.”

Miriallia swore that the Aegis, or what was left of it, was still on the beach, though. Athrun had gotten into a nostalgic fit, the kind he got sometimes that prompted him to do things that ripped open old wounds (like looking at engagement rings and visiting memorials). And when Miriallia had mentioned the ruined Aegis to him, he wanted to go see it even though he knew it would be painful.

They took a helicopter part of the way out, and walked the rest so Miriallia could take pictures of the land. She was doing a project on how the Earth was healing after the wars and wanted some shots of new growth. It was while she scouted Orb for areas to shoot that she had seen the beach where Aegis lay.

They wandered the island for probably two hours before she finally took him to the beach. She did it on purpose, getting her pictures beforehand. Miriallia didn’t know how Athrun would react when he saw the site. She simply didn’t know him well enough to predict his actions (hell, she wasn’t sure Cagalli and Kira could predict his actions. He seemed as erratic as Dearka’s commander to her, just in a quieter way). So she got her business done so she could have her photos and then be ready for whatever he was going to surprise her with. ‘I shouldn’t have agreed to bring him,’ she thought as they approached the beach.

The last time he’d seen it, Reverend Malchio’s orphans had been playing on the pieces. A little boy had kicked him that day, because he was wearing ZAFT red. He wondered vaguely if that boy would welcome him now that he wore an Orb uniform.

They crested a hill, and Athrun got the first glimpse of his ruined suit in three years. The pieces were strewn about, large chucks of twisted metal, dull and grey. Some pieces had blast marks from the self destruction, others were pitted and torn, and all of them were half buried in the sand accumulating on the beach. It looked forgotten more than anything else. The anger and misunderstanding that had destroyed this mobile suit had been left behind with its pieces.

Miriallia watched him look at the scenery, taking in the remnants of his folly. She saw the reproachful look on his face, a deep sadness and hatred of what he did back then. She knew he was thinking of his battles against Kira. She didn’t try to console him; he’d been a vengeful idiot then and in her opinion didn’t deserve consoling. Instead she did what most photographers would do, and lifted her camera.

The ocean breeze ruffled his hair, and when she clicked the shutter, it was in his face, hiding his expression and identity. He was just a man looking at giant chunks of shrapnel. But on the second click, his hair was blown back.

His face was full of conflicting emotions. He was squinting in the bright sunlight, his mouth drawn tight and his eyebrows furrowed. He was angry, sad, nostalgic, all at once, and this was writ large in those pretty green eyes of his. He stood tall and his stance was tense, drawn, ready to act- to run from the reminder of his past, or to leap down and fight it, Miriallia didn’t know which. This was the core of Athrun Zala, the conflict within him that drove his to tear open the scars his past made in him.

There were lots of men with the same core, which made the picture of him standing at the edge of the beach even more powerful when Miriallia looked at it a week later. A whole generation of men and women were just as scarred and forgotten as that beach. 

The photo was in several publications later on, magazines that spoke of peace and healing the wounds of war, about not forgetting those who fought and those who died. But Miriallia never thought of that when she saw it.

Because after that moment, that perfect melancholy moment on the beach, Athrun had turned to her. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for taking me here. I needed to see this. Although I can’t believe they left the head just sitting there! Like some sort of giant mechanical cartoon execution.” His tone was lighter than it should have been. Perhaps he was forcing himself, or perhaps he had a morbid sense of humor. 

Miriallia just sighed. Leave it to Athrun to ruin a moment by saying something awkward.


End file.
